


Hollow Men

by ivyleagueLT



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean W. & Sam W., Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-19
Updated: 2011-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:33:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyleagueLT/pseuds/ivyleagueLT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was hollow, a ghost of his former self without, him, his number one, his better half, his brother. Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hollow Men

Sam was hollow, a ghost of his former self without, him, his number one, his better half, his brother. Dean. It hurt too much to say it out loud so he settled for the dull ache that just thinking about it caused in his chest. It had been four months since Lilith set the hell hounds on him, four months since Sam had seen Lilith, four months since Sam had buried Dean. There it was again, that gnawing pain that with each pump of his heart ripped open Sam's soul just a little more. He had so far avoided all forms of human contact, going out only when totally necessary, one word replies to anything he thought warranted acknowledgment. No calls were received, well his phone got all 37 calls per week Bobby gave him but Sam stopped noticing real quickly. Instead he kept his head buried in a book or hunched over his computer scouring through any and every fact, detail or piece of folklore that could possibly help him save Dean. He even tried summoning Ruby, lotta help that did, demon bitch.

That's where Sam found himself now, buried up to his elbows in books in another crappy motel in Who Gives A Fuck, Illinois. His head was down on the desk, not asleep; Sam didn't know the meaning of the word, just resting on the desk, collapsed under the despair, the guilt that came with not being able to save him. Sam's fingers toyed with the necklace he was wearing, it is- it was his. A hard knocking at the door broke Sam out of his zombie like state; he crossed the short space and opened the door.

"Bobby?"

"Hey Sam, um-"

"Sammy." Dean stepped around Bobby before he could get another word in. Sam took two steps back, dumbfounded. This couldn't be. Sam was there when the hell hounds mangled Dean, his hands were stained with his brother's blood for days, Sam held Dean's lifeless body in his arms and cried for hours. He was seeing a ghost; no, a demon. In a matter of about three seconds Sam went from shock to hatred. His basic hunter instincts took over and without any thought or provocation he pulled the knife he kept in his waistband and lunged for the demon he believed was before him. Dean wrestled with Sam to try to get the knife away from his younger brother fearing that Sam would not hurt only him but himself as well. Bobby quickly stepped in grabbing Sam by the neck and forcing his arms back and up around his head.

"Who are you?" Sam spat out.

"Like you didn't do this!" Dean shouted.

"Do what," he asked still seething with rage for the supposed demon.

"it's him Sam. It's really him." Bobby said, pulling Sam back as he tried to go for Dean again. Sam stood, staring as Bobby slowly freed him from his hold. It looked like him, he fought like him, hell he even smelled like him.

"I look fantastic, huh." Dean said in a voice much hoarser that usual. Without another second of hesitation the two brothers closed the distance between them and embraced for the first time since Sam lay holding his brother's limp corpse four months ago. Dean squeezed his brother until he heard Sam gasp for air; he couldn't be close enough to him. Sam held on just as tightly, swearing to himself to never let his brother go, he couldn't bear that pain again.

Bobby slipped out the door, wanting to get a jump start on how to explain all that had happened. After what seemed like an eternity and no time at all, the brothers stepped back from the warm, familiar arms of one another. They just stood, watching each other for a split second before Sam dropped to the floor. He felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders but his legs couldn't withstand the sudden change on their own. Dean rushed to his brother, lifting his head to look him in the eye.

"I can't- I'm broken. I haven't felt anything and now…" Dean silenced his brother with a heartbreakingly tender kiss. "Make me feel again." Sam pleaded to his brother with his eyes.

"Anything you want Sam, anything." Dean said helping Sam to his feet. He pushed them both back hard into the wall next to the desk that held Sam's computer. Dean knew exactly what Sam meant when he said "Make me feel." Sam had been like this only one other time, when he was forced to relive Dean dying over and over. That time Dean finished with 8 welts running the length of his back and Sam with bruises on his hips and he couldn't sit comfortably for a week. Sam was broken, and it was Dean's responsibility as his brother, the cause of the problem, to fix him.

Two sets of lips collided immediately, needing to taste after so long apart. Dean buried his left hand into Sam's too-long brown locks, wrenching his head back to lavish him with bites and nips along Sam's neck and crown of his shoulder. Dean's right hand assisted Sam's hands in removing the tattered and dirty t-shirts that both wore. Sam settled for simply ripping the shirts in two, not wanting to have to stop Dean to lift them over their heads. Next came the jeans; having much experience with the art of rapidly stripping, Dean was able to pop the button and zipper on both pair in a matter of seconds. Sam pushed off the wall, moving away from Dean toward the bed. He stripped all the way before turning to face his brother. He was baring it all to Dean. This obviously wasn't the first time he had been naked in front of Dean but this time he was not only physically naked but emotionally as well. Sam was vulnerable; he had laid everything out for Dean to do with what he wanted.

"Hurt me." Thos two words cut through Dean worse than anything he suffered while trapped in Hell.

"Lie down," Dean commanded as he looked through Sam's duffel. He hid whatever he pulled out of the bag in the waistband of his boxers as he slid out of his jeans. He climbed onto the bed and up his brother's naked body, straddling Sam's hips. He reached back and pulled out a six inch, pure silver knife. A sensation akin to relief pulsated through Sam's body at the sight of the blade. Dean wasted no time as he sunk the knife into on side of Sam's chest, dragging it across to the opposite side, watching the blood pool up. Sam's blood ran down his chest, streaking it like rain on a window. The exaltation was phenomenal. With that first prick, both boys could feel the tension leave the room.

"Please?" Sam asked after the two sat just reveling in the new found calm.

"Anything," was Dean's only reply. Sam stripped Dean of his boxers, his brother already rock hard without even the slightest touch. Sam went straight for Dean's dick, paying special attention to the head. His nails dug deep into Dean's thighs, leaving 10 crescent shaped indents. Dean had one hand buried in Sam's hair again holding him in place as he thrust upward into his brother's mouth. Dean could hear and feel Sam gagging around his girth, there was something beautiful to Dean about watching Sam struggling to breathe between his legs that turned Dean on even more. Dean reluctantly pulled away, too close to his climax and not wanting to end this here. Sam looked up at his brother with a completely wrecked look; he had pre-cum and spit smeared across his face and the dried blood on his chest stood out on his unusually pale skin.

"Hands and knees," Dean said, Sam moved into position in front of his brother. Dean lined his member up with Sam's entrance, wasting no time with prep knowing full well that Sam would refuse it. Without another thought Dean buried himself balls deep in his brother. He immediately fell into a brutal rhythm. Using the headboard as leverage, he pounded into his younger brother as though his life depended on it. Neither spoke, the only noise in the room was the rhythmic creak of the bed and the primal grunts emanating from both boys with each thrust. Dean pulled out and rolled Sam onto his back, throwing his legs over his shoulders allowing him to be even deeper with his baby brother. "Touch yourself." Sam grasped his cock harshly, pumping furiously to match Dean's pace. "Open your eyes." Dean could sense Sam's orgasm was coming, his eyes were closing and his hand was moving twice as fast. Dean used his right hand to grab Sam's throat, nearly crushing it.

"Say it."

"Dean," Sam barely whispered as his orgasm rocked him to the core, squirting rope after rope of come on both himself and Dean. Hearing Sam's voice finally say his name did it for Dean. He cam, buried deep inside his brother, panting his name like a prayer as a single tear rolled down his cheek, splashing onto Sam's chest.


End file.
